


A Romantic Evening

by patriciatepes



Series: The Queen of St. Canard [8]
Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 1991)
Genre: Awkward Romance, Conversations, Dinner, F/M, First Dates, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I promise, I swear, Kissing, Romantic Kissing, Slow Dancing, accidental fluff, this series isn't going fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22725883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patriciatepes/pseuds/patriciatepes
Summary: Gosalyn wondered if she was maybe going a little crazy, having accepted Negaduck's offer of a date.  But maybe the evening wouldn't be so bad...
Relationships: Gosalyn Mallard/Negaduck
Series: The Queen of St. Canard [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1235501
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	A Romantic Evening

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day! I did it! I got the fic out on Valentine's! I hope you all enjoy, and, as per the tags, I swear that if this comes off a bit fluffy, this isn't the direction for the series.

When the selection of three different outfits arrived, Gosalyn wasn't quite sure what to make of it. It seemed Negaduck had been entirely sincere about having dinner with her.

She still didn't know if it was a good thing that she had been sincere about accepting.

But he had sent her three outfits—one a jeans-and-t-shirt look, one a dress, and one a more formal-but-still-with-pants look—and had apparently left Joe (or maybe this one was the one she called Moe?) with instructions to tell him what her choice was. Gosalyn had never been one to obsess over what to wear… well, anywhere, but this time… this one time seemed like it was an important decision. She sneered a bit at the dress. It was nice, simple, and black, but… she just wasn't fond of dresses. And the jeans and t-shirt deal look a little too casual. In the end, she informed Joe-Moe the Henchman that she would wear the third option—which consisted of a golden-yellow blouse and a pair of billowy pants made from a soft fabric that was white with black vertical stripes that varied in width. Joe-Moe took note of her selection and informed her that he would be back at seven that night to escort her to her dinner with Lord Negaduck. Gosalyn checked the time on the television as soon as he was gone to know how long she had. As it turned out, she had a good five hours to kill.

She spent the first two of those hours watching the news, endlessly flipping between channels to get different anchors' opinions on several of the same events happening all over the city. She may have also deliberately skipped over a few reports that were directly mentioning the Mallard Menace. Something told her that if she wanted to even make it to this dinner, she need not listen to them.

At the beginning of the third hour, she took a shower—a luxury afforded to her now, thanks to her mystical little necklace—and dried her hair with the small hairdryer she had practically begged Negaduck to let her have. True, she had spent the better part of an hour trying to figure out how to use the hairdryer to somehow escape when she had first received it. In the end, there was nothing a hairdryer could conceivably do inside the topmost room of a skyscraper when one is wearing a mystical necklace.

Now with hair dry, she still had a good two and a half hours before she actually needed to get dressed. She ended up back on the bed, flipping through channels again. That lasted all of an hour before the door to the room opened. She whipped her attention over to it, brow arched when Morgana—a handled bag in hand—entered the room, shutting the door behind her.

"I thought it might be fun if I helped you get ready for your date," she said, not bothering to wait for Gosalyn's response as she made her way over to the bed and sat.

Gosalyn eyed the bag as if it might contain some sort of weapon, when she knew that it more than likely contained Morgana's collection of cosmetics. The young heroine had never been one for make-up, deeming it more important to use the extra minutes to work on her fighting abilities rather than her eyeliner ones.

"That's… not necessary," she said, scooting back a bit from the witch.

"Nonsense," Morgana said, cracking open the bag.

"I don't really wear make-up, Morgana."

"You do too… just not often. I've seen you in the background of McDuck's press conferences."

Gosalyn pursed her beak. Yes, it was true, she had applied a _minimal_ amount, for appearance's sake. But that wasn't what this moment was about. She curled her legs in, crossing both them and her arms. The fact of the matter was that she wasn't entirely sure she was… comfortable with Morgana playing this role with her.

Helping to get her ready for a date? That sounded like something her Dad would have done… or a mother, had Darkwing ever married. But, instead, Darkwing was dead, Morgana had betrayed him by throwing her lot in with his murderer soon after, and now Gosalyn was going on a date with said murderer. When had her life gotten so insane?

Apparently, some of her turmoil showed on her face, because when she looked back at the witch, Morgana had nothing but sympathy written on her features.

"I know that…. I know that things aren't… _right_ , I guess is the way to say it," she said, pulling out all kinds of beauty products. "I know that you hate me. I know that you are probably questioning everything. But… Oh, Gos, I don't know how to say what I want to say without sounding… defeatist."

Gosalyn unfolded herself, just a touch. "Just say it, Morg. Whatever it is you have to say."

Make-up sorted as much as possible, Morgana lifted her eyes to the young woman across from her.

"As… strange as it may seem, I've never seen Negaduck act the way he does where you're considered. He's not a nice man, Gosalyn, you know that better than most. You know what he is. I know what he is, before I worked for him and even more after. But… when he's with you… he's different."

Gosalyn fought down the boiling rage that churned inside of her, reducing it to only clenching her hands into fists. "So, what? I should forget everything he's done and just play nice? Go on dates with him? _Give in_ to him? Just so he'll be nice _sometimes_?"

Much to Gosalyn's surprise, Morgana vehemently shook her head. "No. Not at all. It's your choice, Gosalyn. Oddly, it's the one thing we can all trust from him. He won't force anything on you, except the fact that he rules this city and will continue to do so. And I'm not asking you to accept anything blindly. I'm just saying… if you do develop feelings… that's okay. And, by all means, stay exactly as you are. Question _everything_ he does. Hold him accountable. Heaven knows no one else does or can. He's the law, Gosalyn… but you can be the order."

It felt as if something had loosened in the younger woman's chest. She blinked at the witch and suddenly felt the overwhelming need to hug her. She quelled this, managing to force a curt nod toward the accumulated cosmetics.

"Nothing too… bright, all right?" Gosalyn said.

Morgana smiled wide. "I was thinking of sticking with a nude palette."

Somehow, doing Gosalyn's make-up turned into the two of them joking about the night ahead, which helped calmed Gosalyn's nerves, and also served to take up all the waiting time. Gosalyn had just slipped into her outfit when a knock sounded at the door. Joe-Moe entered when Gosalyn called, and Morgana stood, gathering her make-up collection.

"Have fun," she sing-songed, passing the henchman to exit the room.

"Are you ready, Miss?" he asked.

Gosalyn darted into the bathroom, insanely positive that something had to be wrong with her outfit. When she was satisfied that everything was fine, she reentered the bedroom and nodded. Joe-Moe motioned out the door.

"This way, then."

Gosalyn exited the room, expecting the normal hustle and bustle of the throne room, only to be shocked to her core. It was empty. Not a single thug, henchman, or hanger-on filled the space. Apparently, her shock was evident, even though Joe-Moe was in the lead.

"Lord Negaduck ordered everyone to clear every space from here to where your dinner is at, so that the two of you wouldn't be disturbed."

She had to admit, it did make her feel a bit easier that there was no one here to see her exit the room, dolled up for a date with the self-appointed Supreme Overlord of St. Canard. No prying eyes to spread rumors which may get back to her old rebel friends. It was like a weight she hadn't even known she was carrying had been lifted. With a more confident step, she followed Joe-Moe out to the elevator, which they took to floor thirty-five. The halls of this floor were empty too, and the henchman led her to a room that had a large door—maybe, in this building's previous incarnation it had been some sort of small hall for parties?

Joe-Moe opened the door for her, sweeping his arm to indicate for her to enter before him. She stared between him and the open door. Was it too late to run? Could she run, if it wasn't? What exactly was expected of her from this date?

Did she _want_ to go in?

With a small, decisive nod, she crossed the threshold into the room. The door shut gently behind her, and Gosalyn's eyes had to blink to adjust to the new lighting. She was used to the bright fluorescents of the rest of the building—excluding, of course, the ones that had burnt out and no one had bothered to have replaced—but the lighting here was very different. Candles, hundreds of candles, stood all about the room on various holders, on tables, and some directly on the polished tiled floor, provided the only light. In the center of the room was a single, round table, perfect for two. It had a white tablecloth, two plates of food, and a single candelabra, complete with red, lit taper candles. Negaduck stood beside the table, dressed as he always was. He grinned when she looked over at him, and he pulled out a chair. Gosalyn crossed the floor quickly, hoping that it didn't look like she was running, and took the proffered seat. Negaduck—who, upon closer inspection looked like he had at least groomed for this—took the seat across from her.

"You look… beautiful," he muttered, staring down at his plate.

Dinner this evening was a steak, roast potatoes, and uncut green beans. Gosalyn noted that beside both of them was a wineglass, filled halfway with a dark red wine—or maybe it only looked dark because of the light… she couldn't tell. She smirked at the Mallard Menace. Her nerves felt like they were on fire, and she went with her go-to method for calming them: making a joke.

"Were you talking to me or the steak?"

Negaduck blinked, looking up at her. He looked on the verge of growling in anger—but when did he not?—but caught the playful look in her eye. He grinned.

"You, of course. But the steak is a close second."

He immediately followed this by picking up his fork and knife and cutting into the meat. Gosalyn's eyes widened when she realized that she, too, had been given a steak knife. Her mind naturally went to escape plans. Negaduck, without looking up, chuckled.

"Please don't insult me by thinking that you could ever dream to defeat me with a _steak knife_."

Gosalyn sighed. This man was a constant aficionado of bombs of all types. The steak knife was practically a kid's plastic juice straw by comparison. She picked up her own utensils and began to cut at her meat.

For a long time, maybe too long, the only sound in the room was the flickering of the small flames of the candles and of the silverware as the two of them ate without conversation. Gosalyn, for a few minutes, wouldn't even look up from her plate. It was… awkward, to say the least. Any other day, she always had something to say to this tyrant. True, most of that was insults, which really didn't seem appropriate here. Surely there was something…

"Steak's good," she muttered lamely.

She was a good superhero, skilled in the art of deduction and disguise. She wasn't even too bad at a little espionage. Why the hell was this so difficult?

"Got a couple of henchmen who figure themselves as chefs. Apparently, they ain't just bragging," Negaduck responded.

Another spell of silence followed, during which Gosalyn was sure she was going crazy. What did one say in this situation? She was on a date with her father's murderer. That sentence played through her head about a dozen or so times. She was crazy. _This_ was crazy.

But then, Morgana's words danced through her head. Most importantly, the part about Negaduck's law and her order. For one to work, they had to be aware of the other one. Gosalyn, aside from his more violent tendencies and his various crimes, knew very little of Negaduck. And she was willing to bet all he knew of her was what either Morgana had told him or what he had seen on the news. This was her chance. She could finally get information, information that no one else on the planet would have. Unbidden, the image of the blonde woman, Mitzy, came to mind. Gosalyn knew where she would start, and she didn't have to justify to anyone why she needed to start there.

"So, what's the story with Mitzy?" she blurted out.

Negaduck spluttered on a drink of wine as Gosalyn hid a wicked grin behind her glass. Coughing, the Mallard Menace stared at her.

"Why do you want to know?"

"You nearly slept with her, despite claiming to be in love with me. Feels like I should know about her."

Negaduck visibly cringed at the word "love," and Gosalyn shook her head. She really did wonder, sometimes, what went on in _his_ head.

"But I didn't sleep with her."

"Not _that_ time. But the way Morg made it sound, you had plenty of times before."

"Back to calling her 'Morg' are we? Did we have a little bit of bonding time?"

Gosalyn ignored him and his stupid smirk. "Don't change the subject. Mitzy is a regular in your bed—so to speak."

"So are you, so to speak," he replied, cheekily.

She ignored that too, knowing that if she rose to every barb thrown, she'd waste this opportunity. "Why?"

Negaduck sighed, setting down his fork and knife. "Clearly, you're not going to drop this."

"Clearly."

"Fine. Mitzy and her older sister, Angie, were kind of… caught up when I took over the city. Angie had practically raised Mitzy, they lived on the poorer side of town, and when all the crooks left to come and join me here, Angie's then boyfriend drug them along."

"He was a criminal, the boyfriend?"

"Most everyone here is, Gos. So, yes. But he was… he was worse than a thug. He was a slob, not really good for anything except bullying Angie. Let's just say… he didn't care about the victory of receiving a 'yes.'"

Gosalyn pursed her beak together. When she didn't comment, Negaduck continued.

"He talked Angie—who protected Mitzy from all of this—into a heist that he and his weren't prepared for. They ended up against the few cops that were left at the time, a couple of heroes too, I think, and left Angie behind. She ended up not making it, thanks to being a living shield for the boyfriend. Well, then the boyfriend turns his eyes to Mitzy. But, by this time, he was a member of my gang. I don't tolerate the kinds of things he wanted to do to that girl. So… I killed him. Made an example out of him. To Mitzy, I saved her—I guess. She was grateful, and she's remained loyal ever since."

"And you're not concerned that you're… using her?"

"Oh, I know I am. But I'm not forcing her. She's free to be with anyone else, or to never return to me. But she worships me."

He shrugged after this, as if to say, "What are ya gonna do?' Gosalyn rolled her eyes.

"I'm sure the ego boost doesn't hurt either, huh?"

He answered with a bite of steak shoved into his mouth and another shrug. Then, after he swallowed, he grinned.

"Okay, I answered your question. It's only fair that you answer one of mine, right?"

Gosalyn cut a potato into a smaller bite, eating it while she considered. "Within certain limitations, yeah, I think so. Didn't think you were so concerned about fairness, though."

"I'm not, but you are. So, now, my question is this: are you jealous of her?"

"Of Mitzy?" the young heroine asked incredulously.

Negaduck grinned. "Why bother asking about her, then? It must have bothered you, in some way. Is it because she's young? She's older than you, by the way, by a few years. Is it the way she looks? Or is it that it's her… and not you?"

"I'm not—"

"Aren't you? You could have asked me about anything. About how I structure my gangs. About what products I'm smuggling. About the weapons I'm building. Hell, Gos, you know I have designs on the world, you could have even asked me about that. But, instead, you asked me about Mitzy."

He was smiling a smug, knowing smile that Gosalyn would have dearly loved to punch right off his face. She forced herself to take another bite of food, still aware of his grin fixed on her like a beacon. Finally, she groaned, tossing her fork and knife down on the mostly empty plate with a loud clatter.

"I don't know, all right? Are you happy? All I know is, when I was in that closet and I thought you were going to sleep with her… I hated it. I didn't want it to happen. I… I don't know if it was because I would have been forced to listen or what, but I was glad when you sent her away."

There was the tiniest light of victory in his eye, and Gosalyn shook her head.

"You _are_ jealous."

He sounded so damned pleased, and Gosalyn wanted to scream—a little at him, but mostly at herself. Suddenly, Negaduck stood, coming around the table. He offered Gosalyn a hand. She eyed it for a moment before finally placing her own hand within it.

"Would it be so horrible… for you to have feelings toward me? To be jealous of her?" he asked.

He sounded… sad. But that was impossible. Negaduck wasn't capable of feeling sadness, she was sure. Rage was his primary default. But when she glanced up into his eyes, it was there, just a bit.

"I don't know. I just… If I have feelings for you, what does that say about me? You killed my father. You are responsible for so many deaths in this city, even that of my best friend. What kind of monster does that make me?"

Again, she expected rage. She expected him to reject her for her words. But, instead, he gently pulled her to her feet.

"You're not a monster, Gos. Me? _I'm_ a monster. I know this. You? You're somewhere… in between. You're good… but not goody-goody. You're bad… but you're most certainly not me. You're like… an antihero. Point being, don't torture yourself. You don't deserve it."

He pulled her close and before she could even register it, they were dancing. His hand was on high on her hip, she had placed one of hers on his shoulder, and they were still clasping hands. He swept her around the room, despite the fact that there was no music. She blinked at him.

"I didn't know you knew how to dance," she murmured.

"I didn't know you could either."

"I… needed to learn. For my day job."

She'd be a poor hero indeed if she spilled all of her secrets in one go. Morgana might know who she worked for, but he didn't need to, but Negaduck smirked.

"As McDuck's secretary? Or whatever your actual title is?"

She blinked at him. He chuckled, adding, "There's not much I don't know about your day-to-day."

"That's a little creepy," she stated, with little conviction.

"Some would find it… _sweet_."

He seemed to struggle on that last word, causing Gosalyn to laugh. She shrugged as he whirled her around and around, dancing to no tune but their own.

"What's so wrong with being nice, Negaduck? Or sweet? Or love? Why do these things bother you so much?"

"Why do they bother you?" he shot back.

"It's _expected_ of me. I'm a girl, remember? Sugar, spice, and everything nice."

Now it was him laughing. "That's a load of crap."

"Yeah, well, it rolls off the tongue better than sports, fighting, and beer-chugging."

They both laughed at that one before he arched a questioning brow. "Beer-chugging?"

"I know how to have fun, you know. I'm not work-work-work all the time."

"Could've fooled me."

"I'm on a date tonight, aren't I?"

He stared at her then, a look Gosalyn didn't recognize crossing his features. She was about to apologize—something she never in a million years thought she'd do to _Negaduck_ —when he grinned.

"Yes. Yes, you are."

"So, how about it? Why are you so against love?"

At this, his face turned a little grim. "I don't wanna talk about it. If it's all the same to you."

"Why?"

He looked like he might snap at her, and maybe Gosalyn was hoping he would. After all, it would be proof that these things she was beginning to feel, this night she was having, was all just a temporary insanity brought on by long-held captivity. But he schooled his features into grim indifference.

"Because it's a part of my past that I just don't like to revisit."

That just made her curiosity grow and gnaw a bit on her insides. But she nodded. She had gotten a bit out of him tonight, much more than she would have ever thought she would have. Baby steps…

"Okay. So, let's talk about something else then. Heroes and villains aside. What's your favorite color, for example?"

"Really? That's what we're starting with?"

"Why not? Mine's green, by the way."

"Black or blood red."

She stared pointedly down at his suit. "Not yellow?"

"Looks good on me, but no. Don't hate it, though."

"All right. Favorite food?"

"Skulls. You?"

"Pepperoni pizza with black olives."

"Black olives? See, I told you that you weren't all good."

She playfully swatted him on the shoulder. "They're good!"

The rest of the night proceeded much in the same manner. One of them would ask an inane question, which would carefully avoid any of their larger issues, and they danced until they were dizzy, sitting to catch their breath and continue their conversation. Eventually, they both grew aware of the late hour, with Gosalyn teasing him that he had a "kingdom to run." It was the closest the two of them had gotten to mentioning the real world in hours. Negaduck seemed not to mind. He escorted Gosalyn from the room.

"What about those candles?" she asked worriedly.

"Morg magicked them to keep 'em from burning the place down. They'll burn out in a couple of hours anyway. Some of my boys will clean up the other mess too."

Gosalyn nodded as the two of them entered the elevator, riding it up to the top floor. They exited, still talking until they reached the door of the bedroom they both shared. It was here that Gosalyn's heart seemed to beat a little faster. Negaduck paused, seeming to almost sense her unease.

"How many times do I have to say it?" he sighed.

"It's not that," Gosalyn said.

"Oh?"

Gosalyn took a deep breath, steeling herself for the explanation that was coming. "Well, you see… I had a good time. I mean, I really doubted it, at first. I thought at best we'd spend all night trading insults, and that I'd be frustrated and angry by the time it was over. But… I'm not. This is the most fun I've had in… ages, maybe even dating back pre-capture."

"But you look like I'm asking you to suck on a lemon. I'm confused," Negaduck replied.

Gosalyn stared down at her feet in order to avoid making eye contact with him. "Normally, at the end of a good date… I'd at least kiss the guy… But…"

She remained determinedly starting downward, waiting for Negaduck's response. After a moment, he reached out and gently lifted her chin. In the next instant, he kissed her. This one lasted a good measure longer than the little peck he had dared back when Larry had nearly beaten her into mush. This time, though, she didn't mind it. In fact, she found her arms moving upward, encircling his neck. He broke the embrace, eyeing her a moment, before kissing her again, deeply. Gosalyn found her body trying to meld into his, and she realized that she really didn't mind that his hands were on her, holding her tightly against him.

An alarm bell rang in her head, and she broke the kiss, looking away. She put a hand on the bedroom door to steady herself, willing her heart to slow to a steadier beat.

"Gosalyn? Was that…?"

"It was good. Really. I just… I'm not… Not yet, I don't know… I can't…"

"Ssh," he shushed her, reaching around her to open the door.

She turned, blinking at him. He motioned for her to enter, with him following after and shutting the door with his usual slam.

"If you want to stop, we'll stop. All there is to it."

"I'm not usually… I'm not the type that would—"

He held up a hand. "You don't have to explain. Would you like to go to sleep?"

She nodded. She couldn't help it. She felt awful. She felt like a tease. She felt like a traitor. It felt like she was being ripped in two. She excused herself to switch into something a bit more comfortable to sleep in—a pair of stretchy yoga pants and a loose t-shirt. She washed her face and hands, exiting the room to find Negaduck already in bed, snoring softly. She was glad for it, since that meant he wouldn't see the soft smile on her face. She went around the bed, crawling in on the other side. She lay on her side, facing away from the Mallard Menace as her brain replayed everything that had happened over the day, between both her and Negaduck and her and Morgana. She felt like she was losing her mind, and that the lines she had once drawn so dark were now blurring. And she had no idea how she felt about _that_.

In his sleep, Negaduck rolled until he had an arm over her. "G'night, Gos," he muttered, placing a kiss against the back of her head.

He was snoring again, but Gosalyn still murmured back, "Good night… Negaduck."

She found herself snuggling a little closer to him, relishing the warmth of his body against hers. And the kiss… she felt herself flush just thinking about it.

He had called her an antihero. She still wondered if monster wasn't the right term for her after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Shout-out to my friend, Kimmi, who loves black olives on pizza as well.


End file.
